Among the Hills (John Greenleaf Whittier Poems)
PRELUDEALONG the roadside, like the flowers of goldThat tawny Incas for their gardens wrought,Heavy with sunshine droops the golden-rod,And the ...
PRELUDEALONG the roadside, like the flowers of goldThat tawny Incas for their gardens wrought,Heavy with sunshine droops the golden-rod,And the ...
A shallow stream, from fountainsDeep in the Sandwich mountains, Ran lake ward Bearcamp River;And, between its flood-torn shores,Sped by sail or ...
The burly driver at my side,We slowly climbed the hill,Whose summit, in the hot noontide,Seemed rising, rising still.At last, our ...
I FOLLOWED up a little burn,Led onward by the smell of fern;And standing at the opening dayWhere yellow blossoms line ...
A cloud, like that the old-time Hebrew sawOn Carmel prophesying rain, beganTo lift itself o'er wooded Cardigan,Growing and blackening. Suddenly, ...
Silence steps, into the chapel the open-air sanctuary walking in silence a mere rubbing underfoot less than a crunch pine ...
The joy, the secrets discovered wild berries, under the leafs, hidden in the woods, the underbrush in under the branches, ...
One for me one for her (handfuls that is) wild blueberries, picking from the bushes high above my eyes, down ...
sitting alone, in the back of the sanctuary pines the rafters, blue sky the ceiling more beautiful than the Sistine ...
Behind the cabin, age and mothballs a smell I will not forget of a cabin, a retreat, of another time ...
I sat apart, in the back of the sanctuary no roof our walls were around me nature all around Listening ...
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